


Lasting Mistakes

by witchee_writer



Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Gen, M/M, Parabatai Feels, So much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27096424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/witchee_writer/pseuds/witchee_writer
Summary: Matthew is hurt while he is out looking for James one night. James feels it, but some kind of magic, sorcery, enchantment, whatever, keeps him from rushing back to the Institute. If only he had been stronger, his Matthew wouldn't look so nearly betrayed. The guilt is enough to eat him alive, he thinks.
Relationships: Matthew Fairchild & James Herondale, Matthew Fairchild/James Herondale
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20





	Lasting Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> Just to preface, I have not read Chain of Gold yet so this will have very little accurate canon in it. Somehow, I fell into this pairing without having read anything but I love them still. Whether they refer to romantic love or platonic love, who really knows. They're parabatai, that kind of love overshadows both, really. Besides, I like to think of the curse as just a Julian and Emma problem. Also, parabatai pairings are my favourite pairings. So much love, so much potential.

He couldn't find James, he couldn't find his Jamie, not anywhere. 

This wasn't the first time he had done such things, disappeared in the middle of the night. Matthew had felt such pain from his parabatai in recent months. Jamie wouldn't tell him a thing, but Matthew could guess, could guess who it involved. He preferred not to think about it though, it hurt too much. James tried to pretend he was okay, if anything, that just made it worse. Did he really think that he could fool him? He was meant to be his other half, how could he possibly think that he was that much of an idiot?

Matthew tried not to let his anger bubble up inside him. 

He hated the situation, he hated that James wouldn't confide in him, that his heart was overtaken by Grace Blackthorn, that he seemed to have no room to see anyone else, not even Matthew. He hated that James was being so careless, so self-destructive, did he not realise how much that hurt Matthew too? His soul wasn't just his anymore but he seemed to have forgotten all of that. Matthew felt as if he had been tossed aside.

He still searched for him though. 

He loved him too much not too. 

The Blackthorns were causing trouble, Matthew had overheard James' father talking about it, that he was worried about James being out by himself. Matthew couldn't help but agree, it wasn't safe, something just didn't feel right and Matthew knew he had to find him. 

He was so caught up in his task, he didn't realise he was being followed, not until it was too late. 

There was a noise behind him and Matthew turned. 

A sharp pain radiated through his chest and when he looked down, he realised his clothes were being soaked through with blood. His lungs felt thick and heavy and Matthew coughed, falling to his knees. It hurt, was the wound that deep? Was it poison? Someone giggled, he was sure someone giggled and then his vision went dark. 

* * *

The bottle of whiskey slipped from his hand and James froze. 

Pain radiated from his parabatai rune and through his entire body. He felt sick, something wasn't right, something had happened to Matthew. Even through his alcohol-muddled brain, he knew that something was wrong. He had to go, he had to find him. Someone touched his arm and James jumped. Grace Blackthorn peered up at him through her dark set of lashes. His breath caught, his heart stuttered. 

"James, dance with me won't you?" she asked, her voice soft.

The pain from his rune wasn't so bad now, it had dulled. The connection with Matthew was still there, he could feel it. Maybe James had just imagined it? Maybe it was just the alcohol. Grace held her hand out, her pale blonde hair glowing in the dull light. She was so beautiful, James felt as if nothing else mattered but her in that moment. Here she was in front of him, asking him to dance with her. How could he refuse her? 

Somewhere deep in the depths of his mind, he realised that Grace hadn't been in that establishment earlier. He would have noticed if she had been. It was odd that her mother had let her out alone, it was odd that she had appeared as if from nowhere, but those thoughts were deep, as were so many others. 

James took her hand. "Just once, then I must leave," he said, swallowing thickly. 

Again, his rune flared, as if in betrayal but it was just one dance, one dance wouldn't change anything. 

Grace smiled at him, her eyes shining. 

* * *

Everything hurt.

Everything was a blur. 

Matthew didn't know what was happening. 

He could see flashes of people, Lucie, Uncle Jem James's parents, but it was hard to focus on anything when he was in and out of consciousness. 

He knew he never saw James.

* * *

The sun was coming out when James finally pushed through the doors of the London Institute, of his home. 

His mind was clouded and he felt like he should have remembered something, something important but all he could see was Grace. Grace with her enchanting eyes, her inviting lips, her luscious hair, her soft voice. 

And then he saw his father. 

Will was speaking quietly to his former parabatai, to Jem. His face was scrunched up with worry and suddenly, it all came back to James. The pain hit him like a train and he doubled over. Matthew. Matthew had been hurt, he had never imagined it, what ever made him think that he did? He was his parabatai, he should have known. He did know but he ignored it. What happened? Was he okay? He couldn't imagine a world without Matthew in it. His beautiful Matthew, who had done nothing but try and be there for him despite James constantly pushing him away. Why did he do that? He never said anything but James knew it must have hurt Matthew. Maybe James deserved to be in pain now.

If anything happened to Matthew he would never forgive himself. 

"Jamie!" His father placed his hands on his shoulders and James reluctantly looked up at him. There was concern lining his features but there was confusion too. "Where have you been?" 

If it had been him, if he had felt Uncle Jem in trouble back when they were still parabatai, James knew his father would have dropped everything in a second. 

"I- I-" James couldn't even explain where he had been, he was too ashamed. Where had he been all night? He had been out dancing with Grace Blackthorn, running through the streets without a care in the world. He vaguely remembered agreeing to one dance, he had not kept to that agreement. 

His heart burned painfully. 

They all said that Grace was using him, that there was something strange about her, about what she and her mother planned. Perhaps, they were all right. 

"Father," said James, thickly. Tears gathered in his eyes. "I think I have been very foolish." 

Will sighed, deeply. "It was the Blackthorn girl, wasn't it?" He shook his head, "You clearly feel it now, did you feel such pain earlier?" 

"Briefly, a-and then Grace was there and I- I just-" Will's mouth twisted into a small frown, but he did not say anything further about it. "Matthew... is he...?" 

Will turned to glance back at Jem, ignoring the question. "I'm going to send a message to Magnus, Tatiana and her daughter must be dealt with. I will not allow them to enchant and scar my son for their own amusement."

_'Do you think they are behind this attack?'_ asked Jem, his voice echoing through their minds. 

"I am certain of it," said Will, firmly. 

"Father-"

Will turned to him, his gaze unreadable. "It is best you go see him yourself," he said. "Your Uncle has done what he can but the poison was strong and he lost a lot of blood, Matthew will need time to recover." 

James felt as if the whole room was spinning. "B-but he will be okay?" 

_'There is no guarantee,'_ said Jem. _'Some part of him must want to fight, if he gives up, his body will follow. There is nothing to be done but watch and wait. In six hours he will need more treatment, I will return then.'_

"Go to him James," said his father, "Hasn't he been waiting long enough?" 

James flinched. 

He barely even acknowledged his mother as he passed her, or his sister. James had attention for only one thing, and that was Matthew. The pain still rolled through him, making him feel nauseous. Now that his head was clear, James noticed that despite only a door separating them, their connection, the line which tied them together had been stretched thin. With shaking hands, James stepped into Matthew's room. He had missed it, he was distantly aware that he hadn't been in there in weeks, that he had been holing himself up, sulking alone. He never once thought of how Matthew was feeling, how it had made him feel. His parabatai was always outgoing and warm, he was flamboyant and social but James knew he was more sensitive then he made himself appear. He knew, and he ignored it. 

The room was dark, but James could make out the still form of his parabatai nonetheless. His throat tightened, his tears spilling over, James didn't bother keeping his cry to himself. He stumbled forwards, falling to his knees by Matthew's bed. He was breathing, but only barely. His face was so white, it was impossible to miss the dark circles beneath his eyes. James clutched at his hand but Matthew didn't move, didn't even stir. His skin was cool to the touch, if James couldn't see him breathing, he would have thought that he was dead. 

"Matthew," he said, weakly. "Matthew, wake up." 

Still, there was nothing. 

James's eyes fell to the bandages around his chest and stomach. They were thick, he hated to think what the wound beneath would look like. He hated to think how Matthew would react. James could never be angry with Matthew, but he could certainly be angry with him and James would deserve all of it. He tried to stop him from going out and drinking, he tried to stop him from doing anything foolish. The day after Magnus Bane had brought him home, Matthew was the coldest he had ever been with James. He knew that something had happened, that James had done something he shouldn't have. It wasn't until a week later, when Matthew had returned to his normal self that Lucie had let slip that he had been out all night looking for him, that she had run into him in the middle of the night and he had been strangely breathless. 

James had tried to drown himself that night... Matthew had known. 

Just the thought of it made him shudder. He was the worst parabatai, the worst friend, in the world. 

"Math, I'm so sorry, I promise I won't do anything like this ever again. Grace is nothing next to you, I won't even look at her, I wouldn't even be able to bear it without feeling sick now." He tightened his grip on Matthew's hand. "You just have to wake up, okay? You can't leave me, not now. _Please_. You are my best friend, I love you, _please_ just wake up, _please_?" 

* * *

James never left his side. 

It had been two weeks and while Matthew's condition didn't worsen, it didn't improve either. Will knew that Jem was growing concerned, that it wasn't looking good. 

Will feared that even if he did wake up, things would never go back to how they were. 

Matthew had called for James when they had first found him and brought him back to the Institute, Will had the feeling that he would know that James hadn't been there. It wasn't all as it seemed, but Matthew would still be hurt. He had been hurting for while now, James was the only one not to notice. Will wondered if his son realised quite how much Matthew cared for him. Will wasn't a fool, he could see how Matthew felt about James. He loved him, as all parabatai should, but he was also in love with him. He would deny it, but Will could see. After all, he had been that way once too, hadn't he? 

Grace Blackthorn however, had disrupted things. 

It wasn't a strange thing for James to fall in love with a beautiful woman, it was strange for him to become a different person, it was strange that he became withdrawn and depressed, it was strange that even Matthew couldn't get through to him. 

There had to have been magic at work. 

Maybe before it had been minimal but for his son to ignore that his parabatai had been hurt? That was different, that was too far. He would not allow the Blackthorns to get away with it, they were up to something, he would find out what and he would make sure that Matthew got the revenge he deserved. 

He was a part of this family too. 

* * *

Everything was dark.

He couldn't see where he was, he couldn't see anything. 

His chest burned with pain, the rest of his body thrumming uncomfortably along with it. 

He was so tired. He tried to remember what happened but everything was a blur, he was vaguely aware that someone was clutching at his hand, there was a pressure there. He was exhausted, he just wanted to go back to sleep, that would have been easier wouldn't it? Somehow, he managed to force his eyes to open. 

The room was dark, but he could still make out James clutching tightly to his hand, his face scrunched up as he slept. For a moment, Matthew felt fond. 

And then it all came back to him. 

He was looking for James, he had been looking for him for hours and then something attacked him. It was a demon, it had moved fast, it was as if it had been waiting for him. There was only pain after that, he remembered hoping that James would come and he had, but in his heart Matthew knew he hadn't come straight away. It might have all been blurry, but he remembered faces and James hadn't been among them, not until now. 

A coldness swept through his body. 

He pulled his hand from James's grip and his parabatai stirred. His golden eyes fluttered open and Matthew met them. James gasped, shooting upright. 

"Matthew!" Tears gathered in his eyes, as he reached out for his hands once more. Reluctantly, Matthew let him take them. "You're awake, thank the Angel. Uncle Jem said there was nothing more that he could do, that we just had to wait-" He broke off, his voice thick. "I thought you'd never wake. I started to fear I had lost you forever." 

"How long was I unconscious?" asked Matthew. 

A flicker of confusion crossed James's face. He must have heard the steeliness in his voice, must have seen it in his eyes. Matthew couldn't keep it from him, didn't want too. His betrayal caused Matthew more pain then any demon wounds or poison ever could. Just looking at him hurt. They were meant to be parabatai, best friends, he was supposed to be there for him. Matthew knew that nothing could ever have stopped him from running to be with James. Nothing. 

"Nine days," answered James. "Your parents have been distraught." 

He glanced over at him, "And you James?" 

James shook his head, "What kind of question-" 

"Who found me? I was out alone and I'm quite sure it wasn't you, James." 

His parabatai flinched, "You don't know that," he said, quietly. 

"Am I wrong then? I would gladly be wrong, if that is the case." And Matthew allowed some of the emotion to seep into his voice, some of the hurt. "Did you find me, James?" 

"I felt it." 

"That wasn't what I asked." 

Tears spilled from his eyes and Matthew could feel his grip tighten around his hands. "Matthew, I'm sorry," he said, thickly. 

"Did you come running? Did you come as soon as you had heard-"

"It was a trap!" yelled James, suddenly. "You know I care for you more then anyone-"

Matthew laughed, bitterly. "More then Grace Blackthorn?" 

"Yes-"

"Liar." 

"I'm not lying, I would never lie to you about something like this!" 

"And yet you tried to end your life and act as if I didn't know about it! All because of your feelings for the Blackthorn girl. How do you think that would have felt for me? We are two souls joined together James Herondale, how do you think that would have affected me? You didn't think about it, did you? I never even crossed your mind." He tore his hands from James's tight hold and winced, pain moving through his entire body at the movement. He glanced down, the white of his bandages were slowly being stained red. 

James was breathing heavily, his face pale, his eyes shining with guilt. "Your wounds, you-"

Matthew waved a hand, "Don't strain yourself with concern for me, James."

"Please don't do this," said James, his voice thick. "I- I made a mistake, that doesn't mean I don't love you. I have been at your side ever since I returned home-"

"So why so guilty?" asked Matthew, his voice cool. He wanted the whole story, he needed it. 

James shook his head, "Don't make me say it," he said, roughly. "I can't, Matthew-" 

_"Why didn't you come?"_

James squeezed his eyes closed. "Because Grace distracted me, she appeared as if from nowhere. My father believes it was magic, that nothing should have that kind of enchanting power-" Matthew turned away from him and James choked, his hands reaching desperately for him. "Matthew, Matthew, please." 

He sighed, "I'm tired, James. Leave me, I think I need to rest a little longer." 

"I'll stay, let me stay."

Matthew glanced back at him, "That won't be necessary." 

If James looked heartbroken, it was no better then what Matthew himself felt. 

* * *

Matthew was improving by the day. His colour was improving, his eyes were no longer glazed, he could get out of his bed for short periods of time. Nothing had improved the relationship between them though. James couldn't believe that not so long ago he was heartbroken over Grace. This was worse, this was so much worse. 

Every day James would visit his parabatai and every day Matthew dismissed him. 

James couldn't blame him, he hated himself too. 

He could see how much he had hurt Matthew, it shone in his eyes, in the way he held himself. James hurt too just looking at him. He didn't mean for this to happen, he still couldn't understand how he had let it go this far. He just wanted Matthew to smile at him again, to tell him everything was going to be okay, to tell him that he forgave him. James wanted to hold his parabatai's hand, wanted to rest his head next to his, wanted him to call him "Jamie" again, not "James", wanted to speak about the things he had read and all the things he had done recently. 

But Matthew wouldn't let him get close. 

"Father, what if he never forgives me?" asked James, his voice broken.

Will Herondale sighed, placing a hand on his leg. "He will, it may take time but he will. He loves you too much-"

"That just makes it worse! He loves me so much so doesn't that make what I did even more terrible? What if I have pushed him too far. I have been so distant lately, so uncaring of his feelings, what if this was the last straw, what if he never wants to see me again?" 

"You are parabatai, you will get through this." 

His father had never been in this situation with Jem before though, there were no answers he could give, no advice. What if James had gone so far that Matthew no longer cared about the bond they shared? What if he lost him forever? James shook his head. "What if that isn't enough, father," he whispered. "He looks at me now with nothing, he is so cold and distant. I'm scared I have destroyed everything we once had." 

Will was silent. 

That was the only answer James needed. 

He wouldn't give up though, he swore he would get Matthew to forgive him. Or if nothing else, at least speak to him again. He was determined. That determination turned to ash when he saw Charles Buford Fairchild leaving Matthew's room, two suitcases in hand. That determination blew away when he saw a carriage being prepared out the window. 

"What's going on?" asked Lucie, coming up behind him. "Where is Charles taking Matthew's things?" 

James was too terrified to answer her. His stomach felt like it had disappeared, his hands shook. Matthew appeared next, his mother guiding him. Matthew's face was pale but unreadable, his green eyes looked harsh in the bright light. 

"Matthew..." whispered James. "What are you- where are you-" 

Matthew turned his head and Charlotte sighed, "I am taking Matthew home to recover from his injuries," she said. "We apologise for not organising it sooner but arrangements had to be made. Charles just returned from Idris, their father is waiting at home for them both."

James shook his head, "That's a lie."

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"Matthew was the one that wanted this. You would let him stay if he wanted but h-he doesn't want to be here, he wants to leave." 

"And does that change anything, James?" questioned Matthew. 

He felt sick. James honestly though he was going to throw up, his parabatai rune throbbed uncomfortably as he held Matthew's cold, distant eyes. "Stay," he said, thickly. "Please, Matthew, just stay."

"Come along, Mama," said Matthew, looking away from James. "We don't want to keep Charlie waiting, you know how impatient he can be." 

"This is a mistake, Matthew," begged James. "Please don't do this, please you must stay, parabatai aren't meant to be separated."

Matthew's jaw clenched, his eyes flashing. "Hasn't stopped you before, James."

They left. 

Matthew never looked back. 

It was on the steps of the Institute, his body heaving with sobs that his mother found him. There was nothing she could say, nothing any of them could say. 

Matthew had left, and he wasn't sure he would ever come back.

* * *

It wasn't easy, leaving his parabatai behind. 

Matthew could feel the pain, could feel the distance, it didn't make him feel any better. 

But seeing James hurt even more, remembering everything that had happened was worse. He couldn't win, there was no winning for him. If he was with James it hurt, if he was apart from James it hurt. A part of Matthew wished the demon had finished the job, that he hadn't survived. He kept that to himself. 

James came by the Fairchild Manor often.

Sometimes he heard his shouts from beneath his window, or the hallways below, that was as close as he ever got. His parents always told him he was asleep. It was a lie and they all knew it, but Matthew still couldn't stand to see him.

James simply didn't understand.

He had betrayed him, their friendship, their bond. What did Grace Blackthorn have that Matthew didn't (possibly a great deal of things but that was beside the point). Grace had no love for James, Matthew only had love for James. He didn't understand, it wasn't just the love of a friend and brother, it was more. Some noticed, most didn't, James was of the ones that didn't and Matthew was okay with that, he was content. At least, he was. Matthew still thought he meant a great deal to James but in the end, it seemed like that wasn't that case.

He didn't like feeling as if he meant nothing, as if their friendship had been nothing. It hurt, it hurt too much. 

He couldn't stand to see James, not yet. 

Apparently the Institute had brought down the Blackthorns, had brought them to justice for the attempted murder of him and murder of so many others. It made him feel a little bit better, but not much.

Matthew wasn't sure what would make him feel better. 

* * *

James was a mess. A complete and utter mess. 

He never gave up on Matthew though, he couldn't. He needed him, he was his brother, the other half of his soul, his best friend, James needed him back. 

Eventually, the Fairchilds let him into their home.

Eventually, Matthew started to speak to him. 

Eventually, he managed to convince his parabatai to move back to the London Institute. 

They hardly spoke about what happened. James realised in the beginning the best way to get Matthew to talk to him was to pretend as if everything between them was normal again. 

It wasn't. 

That much was abundantly clear to James. He was glad to have his best friend back, but there was a distance between them that had never been there before. Matthew acted the same but James feared it was just that, an act. Matthew wasn't as clingy as he once was, he never sought out the attention he once did, he never laid his head in his lap or forced his way into his bed for comfort, his touches were non-existent, James missed it. He missed the way they used to be, he missed the unwavering love. His heart hurt looking at Matthew now. 

He wished Grace Blackthorn had never come into his life. 

The love he thought he had for her didn't even compare to the love he had for his parabatai. 

Matthew was everything to him. 

Everything. 

"I love you," said James, giving a small smile. 

Matthew glanced at him, his eyes flickering before smiled back. "I love you too." 

James could tell that the words were strained. 

Things just weren't as easy as they used to be. His father told him it would get better, James would believe it when he saw it. There was too much distance between them now. They hardly spoke about it, except once. Once when James had let himself feel, once when James had gone out drinking his sorrows away and Matthew had been the one to find him and help him home. His arm was tight around his waist but even through his alcohol induced haze, James could tell his face was hard. James wanted to cry, but he didn't. 

That wouldn't have helped anything.

"Matthew?" asked, James, his voice quiet.

Matthew didn't look at him, his beautiful green eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead. "Yes, James?"

"Do you think things will ever be how they used to be?"

Matthew sighed, "James..."

"I know we don't talk about it, but I miss you, Matthew, I miss your old self, I miss how we used to be, I miss all of it." His voice wavered and Matthew glanced at him.

"It's just... hard, James," he said. 

"I know." 

"I need more time... Jamie-" James looked at him in surprise but Matthew no longer met his gaze. "Every time I see those ugly scars I am reminded of the even uglier one within. You know how much I care about you, that hasn't gone away, it's just... hard." 

He noted that his best friend used the word 'care', not 'love', but James chose not to comment on it. "I'm sorry,' he whispered.

"I know you are." 

"Do you think one day... maybe?" 

Matthew nodded, "One day, soon, maybe." His hand tightened at his waist, "Come on, we best hurry, before your mother realises you've gone out again." 

It was a small victory, but still a victory. A small blossom of hope bloomed deep in the depths of his heart. One day, he hoped that this would all be behind them. 

For now, he supposed he was lucky to still have some of Matthew, rather then none of him at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
